Hair the Color of Fire, Blood the Color of Crimson
by TeamRocketGirl
Summary: James find out Jessie has a dark secret.


She's like fire, when you get close enough she can warm you better than the thickest blanket or she can leave you badly burned. Her hair is her most stunning feature, best described as the red hue smeared on the horizon at dusk. In stark contrast to her rich and deep crimson tresses are her eyes the color of the ocean, so blue you can get lost in the depth.

She is strong, resourceful, with a cunning brilliant streak, the epitome of what a woman can achieve if she put her mind to it. This is how I see her.

She is like the Goddess Athena. With each move she makes, she protrays the stance of Goddess, proud, defiant, she puts herself on a pedestal, because she believes that is where she belongs, and let hell freeze over before anyone tells her different.

As strong as she is, there is a certain sadness about her that manifests only in the darkest time of night when she believes know one is watching, listening, or even caring. Her resolve melts and the scared little girl inside is allowed to cry the tears of pain that weigh her down every second of her life.

It hurts me to no end to witness the breakdown of such a brave individual. I have never prided myself on my courage, so when I first heard the tears falling down, I tried to tell myself, this is private, I should mind my own business.

Yet deep down, it was my own cowardice talking, not me waving her depression off with rational reasons. Sometimes I wish I could be more the man Jessie needs me to be. Even though I didn't act outwardly on what I saw, I did keep a close eye on her. So from the time I first heard her crying I never slept until I was sure she was.

Then one day the extent of her sadness made itself known...

We had just been blasted off particularly hard and most of both our uniforms were in tatters; including both of Jessie's black gloves.

What I saw shocked the hell out of me, worse than that damn Pikachu ever could. There was at least twenty different nicks and cuts, line cuts, those that look like they have been self-inflicted on Jessie's left forearm.

Meowth saw it too. "Whoa, Jess, what da hell happened ta ya arm??" he asked immediately upon noticing it.

She instinctively pressed her left arm close to her chest, as if to hide the offending marks. I watched her slightly twitch but she quickly brushed it off, pulling her arm away from her chest she looked at the cuts, feigning as though this was the first time she had seen them as well.

"Umm, most be the from the blast off," she responded quickly.

Meowth shrugged, but I wasn't letting it go that easy. I walked straight up to her with courage I didn't know I possessed.

"Let me see," I said almost forcefully, I'm not stupid and I know what those looked like. "Those don't look new.." I pointed out without even getting a good look, mostly due to the fact she hid the cuts against her chest so quickly.

"I'm fine, James," she said, her teeth clenched, "don't worry so much!" this was said a bit softer and sweeter as not to arise suspicion I suppose.

I backed off a little. I couldn't confront her about something so serious when she could clearly come up with a good excuse, the blast off was a pretty good excuse, not that I was buying it.

I presumed the only way the get her to confess and deal with this would be to catch her in the act.

So I let the subject go and we continued on our way. The conversation was brief. Just something about tomorrow's plan.

I wasn't really paying attention, I was coming up with a plan of my own. One to save Jessie from a dark and dangerous obsession with hurting herself to, I guess, deal with her problems. I don't know that much about people who use self-mutilation as a outlet for anger, pain and emotions. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with trying to deal with mental and emotional pain by turning it into physical pain, which is probably easier to deal with to a person with this sort of problem.

I wish she would just hit something, even me, I just can't stand the thought of my partner, my best friend, and the girl I love with every fiber of my being hurting herself to get through pain.

I just have to do something to help her. I have to be the man, step up to the plate, and do something about this.

She has always been there for me, from the times of Pokemon tech to saving my ass countless times during our stint so far in Team Rocket.

This time she needs me, whether she see it that way or not, I'm going to be there for her and I'm going to help her through this, whatever it takes.

We eventually reach a small clearing that is deemed good enough to set up for the night by Meowth.

Jessie seems numbly distance, maybe our discovery of her secret is what's troubling her. She lays down her pack, meticulously spreading out her sleeping bag. It's red the color of her beautiful, regal hair.

I watch as she pocket's something I couldn't catch sight of, and walks off in the direction of a brook we passed earlier. She looks back, and informs Meowth and I that she is going to wash up for bed.

I watch, almost dumbly, not sure what to say but I don't trust she is just going off to wash for bed.

After she leaves I walk over to her sleeping bag, quickly and almost angrily unzipping it to look at the inside, it's gray on the inside, and there are several distinct spots on it, dark, almost black. But I remember quickly that blood dry's black.

I have found more proof of what I suspect so strongly.

I walk off, telling Meowth, "I need to talk to Jessie alone, I'll be back in a few minutes," I say without turning back.

I follow the same path but wait until she has been gone at least five minutes before I stalk up to the brook, with the grace of a cat that would make even Meowth proud, hoping to catch her in the act of what I suspect she has gone out here by herself to do.

Sure enough as I near the brook she would be presumably washing up at, I see her.

She is leaned against a tall oak tree, one leg out forward and one bent, probably for leverage. Her left arm is outstretched and her other hand is running a blade across the forearm.

I can clearly tell its a blade from the silvery glint that its catches from the last dying rays of sun.

Her fist is clenched tightly as she commits the obliviously painful act. I can see a stray tear rolling down from one of her gorgeous blue eyes.

I don't know quite what to do as I see my worst fears confirmed before my eyes.

I seem to forget my cowardice nature as I run up to her grabbing the blade from the offending hand and crushing it into my palm with all the hate I feel for this instrument of pain. I can feel the pain she must feel as it pierces the skin of my palm, and angrily I throw the offending object into the water.

She looks up at me, I have never seen her so scared and confused as she did when I discovered her like this.

"James, I..." she begins.

She seems ready to lie so I cut her off, "I know damn well what you were doing," I accuse, a little harshly.

"I know what these are," I say as I grab the arm covered in nicks and cuts, holding it out as if to display to her what she's done.

I see the many tears forming in her cerulean eyes as she looks up at me, unable to break her gaze from mine, and I add in a softer voice, "Why..?"

She remains quiet.

"Please talk to me," I say as sweetly as I can manage through the anger I feel towards her for hurting herself this way.

She begins to try to stand up, I allow this, I didn't notice her game just yet.

When she is on her feet again, she wrenches her arm back from my grasp, I feel the strength I know she possesses as she struggles easily out of my hold.

"It's none of your business," she says angrily, slapping me hard across the face.

Just as I reach up to feel my burning cheek, she then runs off as fast as she can in the opposite direction. She stuns me for a second with such an abrupt action.

But soon, with my resolve back, I chase after her. I quickly catch up to her, I'm faster than she is, maybe she forgot this. I sure can run scared and I guess I'm just as good at chasing someone, because I have her tackled to the ground within a few seconds of catching up to her.

I roll her over so I straddle her hips and I'm staring down at her, and she struggles like a wild animal caught in trap.

Quickly I pin her down her arms down so as to calm her.

"I won't let you hurt yourself, anymore," I inform her, with the most serious tone someone of my nature can muster, gazing hard down at the angry girl pinned beneath me.

She seems definitely stunned that she can't escape my grip.

She tears her stare away from my gaze to look off to the side, I can see tears of frustration and shame gathering in her eyes.

She seems to give up trying to fight my help and concern when her struggles finally die down.

I ease my way down so were pressed tightly together, chest to chest.

I reluctantly let go of her arms of and wrap mine around her, holding her tight to my chest.

"It's going to be okay," I tell her softly," we're going to get through this..together, I love you too much to let you go through this alone or let you continue this way."

Her eyes grow soft with a certain warm glow, it seems like a weight has been lifted from her chest and she sobs silently her agreement into my chest.

I breath in her scent as if it is the elixir of life and kiss her forehead, "It's all going to be okay now." I say as I squeeze and hug the girl of my dreams to let her know I'm here for her, no matter what.

Whether she wants it or not, she is going to get through this with my help.

That is the promise I made at that second and it is one I intend to keep. I won't let her down...

The End.


End file.
